


Stolen Sleep & Other Stories

by makot0naegi



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Alligators & Crocodiles, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Amusement Parks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Attack, Anxiety Attacks, Beating, Bullying, Cliche, Conventions, Cosplay, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark Past, Declarations Of Love, Double Dating, Execution, F/F, F/M, Feelings Realization, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Future Foundation (Dangan Ronpa), Hair Dyeing, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Memory Loss, Mercy Killing, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Motorcycles, Non-Consensual Touching, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Sharing a Bed, Survivor Guilt, Temporary Amnesia, There are some fankids in there because that was the request
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24781009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makot0naegi/pseuds/makot0naegi
Summary: A series of one-shots based on writing requests I received on Tumblr, based on dialogue prompts.Generally a mixed bag of fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, and just generally whatever I could come up with (given that surprisingly, some people handed me the reigns). If you live for Komahina pillow thievery, Saimatsu first kisses, late nights with Ishimondo, Kyoko Kirigiri being a good mom, executions that involve Shuichi, forbidden Sondam affection, or maybe even Koizuichi realizations of love... You'll probably like something in this.
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede/Hoshi Ryoma, Akamatsu Kaede/Saihara Shuichi, Fukawa Touko/Naegi Komaru, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Iruma Miu/K1-B0, Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo, Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito, Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto, Koizumi Mahiru/Soda Kazuichi, Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya, Sonia Nevermind/Tanaka Gundham
Comments: 32
Kudos: 57





	1. Stolen Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> First one up this time is a Komahina fic, based around the dialogue prompt: "Quit stealing all the pillows!" 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

For Hajime Hinata, living on Jabberwock Island was regularly a test to his patience.

In defence of everyone else, though, he did do this to himself. Technically people wouldn’t have really noticed too much if he just went back out into the real world and started calling himself by Hajime Hinata, because hey, he only looks suspiciously like Izuru Kamakura. There was no proof that the two were the same person, right?

At least, that’s what the others told themselves, for the sake of justifying Hajime’s decision to stay with them. Really, they didn’t know why he chose to stay, especially when he seemed so overwhelmed with them sometimes. It seemed like every day he’d get caught up in one of Kazuichi’s hare-brained schemes, or get looped in to doing Hiyoko’s dirty work. And if he wasn’t serving and spending time with the other members of the island, he was usually being exasperated by what they did when he wasn’t around. On Jabberwock Island, you only made the mistake of doing something Hajime disapproved of once or twice a week. Otherwise, Mikan would start to fear for his blood pressure. And you’d start to wonder if he might really up and leave someday. Sometimes the other islanders would wonder if Hajime might leave, if it weren’t for his boyfriend. Well, that was more something that they joked about. They knew deep down that Hajime loved and cared for them. His relationship with Nagito, the most chaotic person on the island and the biggest test to his patience, would be proof enough of that.

And of course this particular day was no exception. No, he could not have one moment’s peace, so long as Nagito was around. After being put through a long day of anonymous charity work for Future Foundation, all Hajime had wanted to do was take a nap in his cottage. Considering all of the work he’d put in for the foundation, he figured he deserved it. To just curl up in his bed, with a plush pillow under his head and a soft blanket draped over his body… to sleep and sleep until he felt like he’d recovered from the poor sleep he’d had the night prior. That had been his ambition for the day; one that seemed like a foolproof plan. Except for, of course, one tiny problem:

He couldn’t find any pillows.

None!

The moment the realization dawned on him, he didn’t even bother fighting off the groan that tried to escape his lips. His eyes scoured the room desperately in search of at least something, a throw pillow, a neck pillow, a memory foam one… He couldn’t have cared less. He didn’t even care what pillow it was! It could have been one of Ryota’s creepy anime body pillows for all he cared! He just wanted somewhere soft to rest his head. Somewhere soft, and squishy, and comforting… Somewhere that would let him drift off so much easier than the old mattress that sat on his bed. Though he slept on it every night, he never cared much to think about where it came from. He was almost certain that it had been dug out from somewhere unmentionable. He was technically a prisoner, after all. They wouldn’t exactly be sparing him many comforts.

But damn it, at least they had the decency to give him a pillow! A pillow that someone had so rudely stolen. It had been there earlier in the morning after he woke up! What kind of jerk steals a pillow, Hajime grumbled to himself. All of the others should have pillows anyway, there isn’t anyone who should need more. And if they did, it would be a simple matter of asking the foundation for more. Clearly, whoever had stolen Hajime’s pillow was out to get him. That was the only logical explanation. Whoever they were, he was going to make them understand just how wrong it was to steal another man’s pillow, and he could be certain that they were really going to get it. It was just plain wrong to interfere with someone else’s nap like that! They were going to pay, no matter who they were.

Something Hajime had to tell himself twice, as deep down, he knew the pillow thief was probably Nagito.

Now, to be fair, he sort of did tend to assume that everything that went wrong was Nagito’s fault. Not because he didn’t love Nagito — the two had been dating for almost a year now — but because he tended to be a little bit of a troublemaker. While the foundation had done a successful job in getting him some treatment for his more… unusual tendencies (such as his confusing desire to construct bombs on the regular), he still held a tendency to be a bit of a prankster. Especially to Hajime, who he claimed was “obliged to put up with him” on account of their courtship… which was sort of true. But if he were being completely honest, Hajime sort of liked all of Nagito’s little pranks. He always found that there was something charming about his boyfriend’s fit of cute giggles when he was being mischievous. Like his whole face lit up with this sort of glee that he didn’t always show otherwise. After all, Nagito did spend more time than what was healthy talking about what a pathetic person he was. So those moments where he could see his expression twist into one of merriment, where there was little worry on his mind, they meant the world to him. 

However, just because he loved him didn’t mean that he would get away with being a pillow thief. As nice as it was to help people, Hajime dreamt of this nap all afternoon. So whether or not Nagito was cute when he played pranks or not became irrelevant. He fully intended to get his pillow back, and take the nap of the century… whether Nagito liked it or not. He didn’t get a say in the matter.

_________________

Nagito knew he had a say in the matter.

As captor of all of the island’s pillows, truthfully, Nagito did manage to get a lot of say in how these things played out. 

In his defence, his pillow thievery wasn’t to torture his boyfriend. Oh no, quite the opposite. Knowing that Hajime would have probably had a long, hard day, Nagito just wanted to do whatever would allow his partner the opportunity to just relax for once. So he stole his pillows, as well as the pillows of everybody else on the island. Which sounds like something a jerk would do, but he hadn’t done it with the intent to hurt anyone. He did it with the intent to make Hajime happy. He did it with the intent to build his boyfriend the pillow fort of his dreams.

If he were allowed to toot his own horn he would confess that his fort was starting to look pretty darn good. It had seen a sturdy construction, a cheerful decoration, and a meticulous refinement from the inside out. He’d managed to use everyone’s pillows in such a way that would compliment the structure, and keep it from tumbling down with the two inside. Akane and Nekomaru’s pillows were used for the outer walls; they preferred flatter pillows on firmer mattresses, so they were better for support. He’d tossed in Mahiru and Ibuki’s pillows on the outside, too, for the sake of adding a little colour. The two of them had such exciting pillowcases, he’d remarked, his eyes dancing over the green plaid and splashes of neon colours. Such fun reflections of the girls’ personalities! His own pillows were supportive pieces to the ensemble, just as boring as basic as he found himself. But hey, at least they gave support to what spaces needed it. He figured that they should carry the brunt of the weight, so that the more exciting pillows could shine just like their owners did. 

Hajime’s pillows were kept on the inside. They would probably find the best use in there. He found it funny how alike they were to Hiyoko’s or Fuyuhiko’s… all soft and plush, smelling like clean bedsheets and ocean breeze. He couldn’t help but sigh as he breathed in the scent — Hajime always smelled like that. Always smelled like a peaceful calm that Nagito had never known. He couldn’t help but relish it. Just like he hoped Hajime would, when he came in and discovered this pillow fort of solitude. 

The fort was close to completion. All decked out in pink fairy lights and “borrowed” bed sheets, with everyone’s pillows all around to support it… Just a pillow or two more and he could start making the hot chocolate he’d been planning on brewing. Actually, should he do hot chocolate? Jabberwock Island was already hot enough on its own, especially considering it was the middle of the summer. It certainly didn’t help that Hajime was also the hasty type. He’d probably get so excited about having something nice done for him that he’d burn his tongue within the first four seconds. Maybe a different beverage would be the superior choice.Would lemonade be a suitable option? He stopped to ponder the thought. Lemonade was cold and refreshing. He was pretty good at making it, too. His luck always allowed him the perfect combination of sour and sweet, but he usually ended up spilling some of it. He’d need to ask someone else for help with delivering it to the fort, to avoid that unfortunate course of action. But who would be a good choice for that…? Most of the others were busy. Perhaps he could ask Peko, he thought. She had been kind enough to lend him a hand a couple times as of late, when she wasn’t trailing after her new group of friends. If he did decide on lemonade, she’d be the first person he called over.

He supposed he’d need to get access to Hajime’s laptop somehow, too. Being one of the survivors of the simulated killing game, he received certain privileges that the others did not. One of such privileges was his personal laptop, which he was technically expected to use for work rather than personal leisure. It was a producer of documents and phone calls to mainland (usually to Makoto Naegi, who kept in contact despite his resignation). In this case, though, Nagito hoped for it to be a producer of movies. As a reward for good behaviour, he’d managed to get a couple of movie discs to watch. He and Hajime would use them from time to time when they were bored, but since they actually had this whole set-up now, he figured that there would be no better time to use them. Thankfully, his boyfriend’s laptop would probably be where he expected it to be, in his cabin. He often took it home after doing the day’s work, so Nagito thought perhaps he could beat him back to grab it.

Underline word here being “thought”. A familiar pounding at the door silenced that thought almost just as soon as it was born.

“Hmm?” The former lucky student mumbled, lifting his head from his pillow fortress of extreme joy. Though he knew it was exactly who he thought it would be, he still felt inclined to call out. “Hajime, is that you?”

The answer from the other side of the door was sharp and blunt. An even further proof of what Nagito already knew. “Yes,” He snapped, “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

Because your pillow is gone, Nagito thought to say, but he didn’t utter them. Instead, he chose to plod up to the door and open it, being greeted by Hajime’s unchecked exasperation. His brows had lowered over his hazel eyes, and though he tried to hide it, Nagito could see that the other man’s jaw was clenched. His lips were even curved downward, a displeased frown apparent on his typically neutral face. It was unlike Hajime to frown quite so intensely. If he had been more vain, he might have worried about frown lines, with the way he was scowling. I must have gotten him bad this time, Nagito thought. 

“Quit stealing all of the pillows!” 

He blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the outburst. What a drama queen, he snickered to himself. He couldn’t help but melt into a relaxed smile at the other’s frustration, mostly on account of the fact that he knew it was flimsy. That grouch wouldn’t last three minutes against Nagito’s pillow fort of love and happiness. “Hello to you too, Hajime.” 

“Don’t give me that!” He threw his arms up in the air dramatically for a second, following promptly by folding them across his chest. The chest that he’d puffed up a bit, Nagito noted, to show that he meant business. Still, he could barely believe it. He could act big, but everyone knew he was a teddy bear on the inside. “You know exactly what you did, at least own up to it when I confront you.”

Could he take this further? Seeing how sour Hajime was, he kind of wanted to. His ability to push all of the right buttons just made him think about how perfect they were for each other. If he couldn’t mess with him in this way, he might have worried that they weren’t meant to be. It was good that he could tug on his lover’s leg.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

Hajime’s eyes narrowed. “Bullshit!” He gestured to the area behind Nagito, which did, in fact, make all of the stolen pillows incredibly visible. He almost snorted at the mental image of how this whole thing probably looked. The only thing that kept him from doing it was the want to push things further.

So he pretended not to see them. “What are you getting so worked up about? Tough day?”

“Yes,” The other party answered, his scowl slowly transitioning into a childish pout, “I’ve had a long day and I’m exhausted, Nagito, so I just want my pillow. I just want to relax.”

Nagito let out a cheerful hum. “That’s why I stole it.”

“Seriously? You would steal my pillow when I’m tired just to antagonize me?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at his partner, bopping him playfully on the nose. “You’re silly, you know that? Of course I’m not doing it to antagonize you,” He moved aside, gesturing towards the fortress, “I’m trying to help you, see?”

It was almost funny how quickly Hajime cycled through expressions when he caught wind of what Nagito had actually done. At first there were the parted lips and double take of surprise, then the flushed cheeks and the rubbing of his neck, and then finally the bright eyes and warm smile of admiration. That was all it took for Nagito to know that he’d done incredibly well. I wonder if he’s all that embarrassed, he wondered internally, having accused me of toying with him when all I wanted to do was help.

When he finally spoke, his voice came out soft. “You… built me a pillow fort?” So soft that Nagito had barely caught it, amongst the roar of the waves and the cries of island birds. “So I could relax…?”

He nodded, sticking his tongue out at his boyfriend playfully. Sure, he didn’t want him to feel bad about how he’d reacted, considering it was justified. But he definitely did want to tease him about it, just a little. “Yep! I was thinking we could do like, a movie night or something. I was just going to see if I could sneak in and grab your laptop.”

If Hajime hadn’t been embarrassed before, he was now. Nagito could see it in the way that he averted his gaze, turning his head more towards the ground. He never did like to admit too much when he’d made a mistake.

“Are you going to say sorry, now?” 

“Sorry.” 

“Sorry for?” He pressed further, bouncing on the heels of his feet. 

“Sorry for getting all high-strung about the pillow thing… You were just trying to do something nice for me.”

Nagito couldn’t help but giggle, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to Hajime’s cheek. He swore he could feel the other man’s face heat up at the action, still unaccustomed to such affections somehow. The fact that he would still blush madly despite their almost year of dating only made him giggle more. 

“It’s okay. I know what you’re like when you’re sleepy. Now what do you say we go get your laptop and some lemonade, and settle into our pillow fort?” 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Hajime replied, giving a cheeky wink, “Maybe we can even sneak a couple of cookies out, too. Mahiru was in the kitchen baking some last I checked.”

“Ooh! I like the way you think, Hajime!”


	2. Demon's Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Sondam prompt for a Tumblr anon, based around the dialogue prompt: "No! Stay away from me! Stay back!". A love confession goes awry.
> 
> Thank you for your support!

This was not at all how Sonia imagined her night going. 

Her whole evening was planned down to the very last detail. The walk across the island's beaches, the games they played with Gundham’s pets, the meal they ate for dinner… Sonia planned all of that just for them. Just to ensure that they had the absolute perfect evening. That was what it was supposed to be, after all. It was supposed to be the perfect evening for the two of them so she could finally, finally tell Gundham the truth about her feelings. She’d been waiting so long for the opportunity to confess to him, to tell him when she thought they had finally grown close enough. After all, Gundham had always been a bit of a shy person. He tended to recoil from others, and generally one had to seek him out if they wanted to interact with him at all. Sonia had had to spend many a day trying to coax him into coming with her places, and choosing to let him in. And while he did come to like her, there was a certain degree of closeness that she yearned to have with him. One that preceded her feelings, as well as his own. It had never seemed like the right time before, but now… She hoped that perhaps now, things could be different. Now that she’d conducted the absolute perfect day for herself and Gundham, now she could admit to the things she had been too afraid to say in the past. Things she’d been far too afraid to say during the simulation, and even when they were at school together… All those words spilling out in the most loving fashion, to a heart that would accept them no matter what. That was what Sonia expected.

In her daydreams, her confession would spread the brightest smile across Gundham’s typically gloomy face. He would chuckle nervously at the confession, maybe pop out a line about her being his darkest queen and greatest treasure. Then he’d tell her that he had always reciprocated her feelings, but was too scared to tell her. In some versions, he told her that his love for her burned even brighter than hell’s scorching sun. The words would send her flying into his arms, wrapping tightly around his masculine frame as she nuzzled her face into his chest. 

“Oh Gundham,” She would whimper, happy tears spilling from her emerald-coloured eyes, “I’m so happy you feel the same way…”

Though she wouldn’t be able to see Gundham’s face, she would simply feel in her mind that he was still smiling. His body would feel so warm pressed up against her own, and so comforting as he rested his chin on his forehead. One of his hands would come to rest on the back of her head, and he would speak softly to her, encouraging her to wipe her tears. 

“Crying is for sad occasions, my queen, and this is one of joy.”

But this wasn’t Sonia’s romance fantasy. This was real life. And judging by the way real life works, it was nothing like what she envisioned. 

When she told Gundham, he didn’t smile. He didn’t laugh with the embarrassment of a boy who’d never been loved before. He didn’t call her his dark queen, or his greatest treasure. He didn’t even say he felt those feelings in return. When she finally confessed to Gundham, after years upon years of being madly in love with him, all he did was stare.

“Gundham?” The princess’ voice came out as a hushed whisper, though she didn’t intend for it to be so. In the back of her mind, she knew that it was probably better for it to have been quiet. If she spoke any louder, her voice would commence shaking. Besides, the expression on Gundham’s face certainly wasn’t helping her find the courage to speak any louder.

He stood across from her, his eyes as wide as two moons. Though at first his mouth hung open like he was trying to catch flies, now it was closed shut tightly. Sonia might even have said that his lips were pursed as he watched her. Like he felt clueless about what he should say. Not exactly a promising sign, she remarked to herself. His stance, which had once been open, reduced itself to folded arms across his chest. She could see the tension slowly developing in his shoulders, and even worse, the gentle shaking of his head. Even his fingers were trying to subtly tell her how he felt; picking at the bandages he wore around his arms from guinea pig bites and cat scratches. He might have even taken a few steps back, as if he needed to be far away from her to process the weight of the words. Or maybe it was if he never wanted to hear them at all.

He didn’t speak. Only stared. Watched her, with the most timid gaze. One that told her she should have known better than opening her mouth. Just seeing his face like this caught Sonia between feeling as if she wanted to cry, and feeling as if she wanted to vomit. Gundham had never looked so frightened before. 

“G-Gundham…” God, she hated how small her voice sounded. She tried to take a step toward him, to gather her courage, but he took one back. The idea of him pulling himself away from her… it made her stomach tie itself in knots. She felt so clueless as to how this could even be happening. “I-I apologize, Gundham, t-truly I do… I j-j-just… I thought maybe you m-might…”

It felt like a rock lodged itself in her throat. What did Gundham expect her to say? What did he want her to do? She didn’t even know what she did wrong; didn’t know what she said to upset him. All she knew was that he was staring at her with these big, sad eyes that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she prayed they might. The sight of them made her heart drop into her stomach. What had she done? 

“I-I was under the impression t-that…” She was fumbling, but what else was there to do? It’s not like he had given even the slightest indication of what he expected from her. All she knew was that her romantic fantasy had been a farce. He would not accept her feelings. All he would do is stare. “G-Goodness, Gundham, I’m so very sorry for what I said… I h-hadn’t realized how... how much this would affect you.”

The breeder continued to say nothing. He only shrunk further in on himself, pulling his arms tighter to his chest. She swore she might have even heard him give out a nervous gulp as she spoke. Just having seen that made her want to cry. She’d made a grave mistake, hadn’t she? She could have kicked herself for being so childishly naïve.

“I did not intend t-t-to hurt you with this, I said it only because I thought that you might… well I thought that we might…” She could barely look at him anymore; her hands curling tightly into fists. Somewhere within her chest, a scream threatened to rip its away out of her. “I thought that you might reciprocate my feelings, and that we might be able to be united as lovers, but… I understand if that is not what you desire. I understand if all of this is simply a misunderstanding, and that I’ve caused you great discomfort. I-I just… I just ask that you keep in mind that I did not mean to hurt or frighten you with my words. I only desired to share my feelings in a way that I thought might bring joy to both of us. I understand now that that was inconsiderate of me.” 

Her eyes fell to the ground. She couldn’t bear his gaze a moment longer, for she could only witness the reflection of her words within them. Stupid, she cursed herself. Stupid, insolent girl. How could she have such little consideration for how he might have felt? She wanted to melt into the puddle of hot shame, her scorched flesh steaming against the beach’s sand. It felt like the only way she could stand being there for another minute. 

If Gundham could see in her face, the way she felt, he didn’t seem to notice. All he appeared to notice was the shaking of his own voice, as he finally attempted to reach her. Sonia almost found it funny that his voice sounded so distant, when he was only a few feet in front of her. Everything just felt like it was echoing underwater; all sound unable to drown out the pounding of her regretful heart. 

“My dark queen, do not mistake the concerns of a mortal mind for a foolish discomfort,” Sonia lifted her head, seeing that slowly, Gundham reached his hand out to her, “It is not your confession that has wrecked me for all that I am worth. I fear even the Great Gundham Tanaka has his limitations.”

Limitations? How could that be?! Gundham was a being of all power to Sonia. A true demon-angel crossbreed; the most amazing thing that she’d ever had the privilege of laying her eyes on. How could he ever be limited by something like human mortality? 

Well… She supposed that in some ways, it made sense. It wasn’t like the man was completely beastly. He confessed to her long ago that there was a hint of mortality somewhere within his blood, circulating in his veins… She had just assumed that she might never get to see it. After all, it seemed so often that he was caught between heaven and hell, the angel blood of his mother and the devil blood of his father… She never would have considered that perhaps his humanity could strike! But what was it about her love confession that daunted him so? What limited him from answering with truth? She opened her mouth to ask, only to be cut off by his own words. 

“The relationship which you seek… one of love and touch… I must forbid it.”

Sonia swallowed; the tears pushing their way into her eyes. The mere mention of the word ‘forbid’ made the lump in her throat feel even larger, and she swore her body had begun to tremble. Every word made her brace for the opportunity to just sit down and have a good cry, right there on the beach. 

“I… fear I do not understand,” She murmured, desperately attempting to keep her voice steady, “I haven’t a clue what you are trying to say.”

Gundham squeezed his eyes tightly shut, as if he were in pain. Gritting his teeth, he spoke once more. “Truthfully, I desire your companionship more than any other. However, this filthy concept of love you mortals have is one I cannot engage in.”

He… dislikes love? She blinked at him, trying to wrap her head around the meaning behind his speech. What did he mean by not being able to engage in love? Surely, he could. He had told her how much he loved his mother, after all. She knew he was more than capable of it. Maybe he wanted to tell her that he only cared for platonic and familial love, which she understood was the case for some. That, she understood well enough. But still, that didn’t seem to feel right. It wasn’t really what he was saying, was it?

“Those who even dare to touch my flesh will feel the power of a thousand of hell’s suns burning them to a crisp… feel death creeping towards them and breathing down their neck…” Gundham’s fingers tugged at his bandages. His frown grew so harsh Sonia wondered if he was in physical pain. “I am cursed, cursed to destroy all that I touch. I cannot risk bringing this curse onto you. You are much too vital to me, and to your world… A queen of your caliber… a high level demon… No, someone like you can not experience such horrible throes because of my foolish emotions. I cannot… allow that!”

The last phrase escaped his mouth as a shout, his head tilting up to yell it as a declaration to the heavens themselves. Like he was cursing them for giving him such a fate. The sound of it made Sonia’s stomach do a flip-flop, feeling so unsure of what she should do. Should he comfort him? Could he even stand it if she tried? Everything had begun to feel like a horribly strange blur, and there was so little she felt she could do about it… 

“So what you are saying is…” She paused, not daring to glance away from him for even a moment, “... that you do care for me?”

Slowly, his head fell back down. Though she didn’t intend to, she was holding her breath. She couldn’t help herself — if he truly did love her, then surely there was a way. She would find it. All he had to do was nod. And nod he did. His eyes once again darted away from hers, as if admitting to his affection was shameful. Perhaps he really did find it to be so, she thought, for a being of his superiority might never have felt anything otherwise. She could only hope that it wasn’t so shameful that nothing between them was ever meant to be. 

Sonia could feel his frustration. There was something unspoken in wanting someone who could never be yours. A type of painful yearning, accompanied by stiff muscles and tension in one’s voice as they wished desperately for some new path to present itself. A golden path, that held all of the secrets and solutions that would give them the life they wanted. Some sort of manner in which they might be able to toy with the will of fate. Hmmm... Maybe she couldn’t feel it radiating off of Gundham. Maybe she could feel it radiating off of herself.

Sonia’s heart was beating in her throat. At least, that’s what it felt like, as she took a step forward. “What you said… Please know, Gundham, that none of the words you spoke change my desires. I still love you just as I did before.”

His teeth clenched, and he squeezed his eyes shut. More tension. He was glad that she loved him, but at the same time, he wished that she didn’t. Love is a complex thing, she remembered her mother telling her once. “A less sinful creature might pray for you to change your mind. I am unfortunately a much more heinous beast.”

“You are no beast, Gundham.” She took another step forward, tears beginning to pool in her eyes once again. Somehow. She wanted to have him, somehow. She didn’t care what it took. Love may be complex, but we too are a fountain of complexities and that has never been a barrier for us. I will love him, no matter what I must do. “There is still angel’s blood in your veins. That is not nothing.”

“It is not enough.” He grunted. His hands began to curl into fists, and he looked as if he were willing her away based on sheer willpower. It was like she was a fly buzzing next to his ear, or a siren luring him to some undeniable watery hell. “It is not enough to keep you safe from me. I told you what I told you because I intended to protect you.”

Sonia stepped forward once more. 

“Gundham-”

He lost his control.

“There is reason for my being Tanaka the forbidden one! There is reason to why I tell you that you should stay away! Beware, dark queen, what I could do if you do not heed my warnings!”

She didn’t care. Tears spilling relentlessly from her eyes and she just couldn’t find it within herself to care. She had to bite down on her lip to keep it from openly quivering, but she kept walking. It stung in so many more ways than she could describe, being in this position. On the one hand, she felt so overwhelmed. Truly, was there anything she could say to Gundham to convince him that everything would be okay? Could she find a way to prevent the heartache they both knew was coming? There were too many questions to ask herself, and too many questions to ask him. All she wanted was to fall into his arms, to press her face into his chest and sob like a small child. This was never how it was supposed to be. The two of them were supposed to have a happy ending, like in the fairy tales. Gundham was meant to sweep her off her feet and agree to be her king. She was meant to love him as he was and never change a thing about him. That was the future Sonia wanted. Why did fate have to try and steal that away from them? Why did fear get that right?

His voice grew nervous as Sonia continued to shuffle forward, her steps still miniscule in comparison to what they would normally be. She couldn’t help but hesitate, deeply afraid of what was to come of this situation. There was no way of anticipating what he might do once she reached him. That is, if she even managed to reach him at all. His body had begun trembling on the spot. His brows lowered over his eyes. “S-Sonia, cease this at once!” His left hand wrapped around his right wrist, as if he was trying to still himself, “You haven’t a clue what you are doing!”

The princess shook her head. “I shall not stop,” She took another step, “Certainly, we must at least try-”

Gundham grasped his head, like a powerful headache had begun to beat upon him. His teeth were grinding together. 

“Sonia, please!” 

This wasn’t confusion or frustration anymore.

“Gundham, listen to me-”

This was pain.

“No!” Gundham’s arms flew out within a matter of seconds, ready to push Sonia away if she got any closer to him. “Stay away from me! Stay back!”

She couldn’t fight off the sobbing, finally coming to a halt. “Gundham…”

“My dark queen…” He murmured, shaking his head softly, “Don’t. It’s for your own good.”


	3. Remember, I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Kiiruma prompt for a Tumblr anon. They didn't request any dialogue prompts or tell me a theme, so this one I conjured up from the depths of my weird little brain. 
> 
> WARNING: This one contains violence, bullying, and brief thoughts about death/suicide. If you find any of these topics triggering, I'd advise you to please skip this one. Your health is the most important thing.
> 
> I hope the writing pleases you!
> 
> EDIT 7/16/20: It came to my attention that I accidentally posted a slightly unedited version of this story in which one of the bully lines was different than what it was in the final version. What is now the picture line was originally something much more disturbing, which I cut from the Tumblr version but accidentally left in for the AO3 version. My intent in the original draft was to show the extremities of the bullying Miu was facing and the way she was treated, but the line had too much potential to hurt victims of sexual assault in its likeness to real life situations, so I tried to take it out. Only I guess I posted it in this version. To anyone who had to read that line, I am deeply sorry. It has since been edited, and I will be checking my drafts much more thoroughly in the future.

It was Miu’s fault. 

What Professor Idabashi had to do, it was Miu’s fault. 

She didn’t know how long the two of them had been standing there, just staring at the deanimated body of their loved one. She could barely even recall arriving, her entire being having been consumed in a fog. A fog that hadn’t lifted since the day the professor told her about Kiibo’s deactivation. She supposed it paired well with the rest of her body, the whole thing tingling with this profound sense of numbness She’d already spent the time she needed feeling those deep stabbing pains in her guts, squeezing out a seemingly endless stream of tears. Her mind drifted back to that first night, her roommate holding her hair back as she dry heaved. She’d been crying too hard. Hadn’t been able to stop the dinner she’d barely eaten from coming back up.

“It’s okay, Iruma-chan.” Kaede’s voice was supposed to be soothing to Miu’s ears, but with everything that happened, it felt honeyed. “You’re okay, Iruma-chan.”

She’d hated hearing those words. She knew she wasn’t. She could never be. Not after what happened, what she did. She could never be okay with leaving things the way they were. But could she say that to Kaede? All the poor girl wanted to do was help. Much as Miu mocked her sometimes, she didn’t have the heart to tell her off. She knew she was a mess. It would be wrong to fault Kaede for trying to pick up the broken pieces of who she was. Whether she believed the other girl or not, she was just trying to help.

Kiibo would have been fine if Miu stood up for herself that day. It would have been better for everyone if she’d just worked up the courage to pound that guy’s face in the moment he started to disrespect her. It was what any gorgeous girl genius would have done in her place, but she knew she wasn’t that person. Not really. It was just a front to keep people from feeling as if they could mess with her. And even then, what happened to Kiibo made it clear that it didn’t work. How could it, when that boy had marched up and smacked her across the face like it was nothing?

People were always shocked when people they liked were hit. They’d all yelp and cry out, kicking up a big fuss. Sometimes someone would even come to their defence, in hopes of protecting them from their assailant. Miu saw that very same thing happen time and time again, when girls prettier and more popular than her were struck. Usually on account of some drama, she’d guessed. She’d always had to guess. Nobody but Kiibo wanted to tell her anything. The two of them had always just had to assume that the drama was really terrible, for the girl to warrant a hit like that. But regardless of what happened with each of those girls, someone always came to their rescue. Someone would lift them off the ground, check their wounds, call the other person some horrible name. Then they’d squabble until a teacher came rushing out, all wide-eyed and crotchety over the scene. Like students beating on each other somehow took the skin off their backs. Miu remembered thinking about how stupid their faces looked every time she saw it. All wrinkle lines and gaping mouths as they yanked students away from each other; their whole professorly set-up askew as they lost what remained of their dignity to their duty. She lacked respect for them. How could she even dare? After what they’d done when she’d been pushed down, when she’d been beaten on, when Kiibo had been the only person kind enough to come to her rescue… Who’s to say that she should have any respect for those teachers who so clearly didn’t care about anything but keeping their stupid jobs?

Hiroshi Obinata was the name of the boy they’d defended that day. The same boy who struck her. The same boy who ensured that Professor Idabashi had to deactivate Kiibo. Her hands curled into fists at the mere mention of his name, or the crossing image of his face in her mind. I should have beaten the shit out of you myself, Miu thought angrily, I should have shown you how strong I can be. 

But I didn’t.

Kiibo had to protect me. 

She swallowed hard. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have sworn that a rock lodged itself in her throat. That’s how difficult it felt to do something as stupidly simple as swallowing. Then again, most movements came to her in waves of discomfort after that day. After the first day, her shoulders seemed as if they had been wound tight; they were almost totally collapsed. The day after, air sucked itself from her lungs almost entirely. And the day that followed after that one, she erupted with sobs so strong that she vomited, and Kaede ran to her side to hold back her hair. And now she was at today, staring at Kiibo. At least, what used to be Kiibo.

If she were to be honest, she didn’t feel like she’d entirely left the day he struck her. Ever since it occurred, the memory played in her mind on an endless loop. Every waking hour she replayed the situation in her mind, wishing that she did something differently. In some versions, she pushed herself up off the stone path and socked Hiroshi in the jaw. In other versions, she stopped Kiibo before he could get out of hand. He was always so gentle; surely he would have listened to her if she’d just pressed him sooner. How could a boy that gentle be capable of what he did? 

Hiroshi had it coming, Miu thought bitterly. No matter how drastic the measures Kiibo had taken, Miu knew he deserved it. Nobody should get away talking the way he did. His every word hung in the air like fairy lights on a wall — if fairy lights were ugly and horrible, rather than charming and bright. Hiroshi was crude, he was crass, he spoke like he didn’t care who listened. He would throw out some far-fetched gossip here, insults against innocents there, and every once in awhile, he’d be sure to throw some slurs in… to take a stab at the school’s minority groups. Miu hated him from the moment she first heard his voice. She hated him from the moment she saw his face. She hated him from the moment he took a jab at Kiibo’s expense. 

Her defending Kiibo against Hiroshi melted into Kiibo defending her against Hiroshi. It would’ve been funny, she thought, if it weren’t so sad. Irony has always worked in strange ways. This time, it punched Miu in the face. Much like Hiroshi had.

The hit got her good, she would allow him that. A harsh, forceful punch that would easily bruise his knuckles and her face. Just the one hit, and he managed to draw blood. The sign of someone who knew what they were doing. Did he get into a lot of fights like this, she almost wondered aloud. It would certainly explain why the punch hit her less like a punch and more like a brick. Without even having to thrust his fist into her gut, he winded her. Without having to say a word, he humiliated her. She heard them all gasp in delight when she hit the courtyard’s path, going down like a bag of rice someone lobbed at the floor. Her chin collided with the path, and her voice squished out from her belly as she fell. Some of them snickered at the sight. Had the weather been any more cruel, she was certain he would have shoved her straight into a mud puddle. That’s how it always happened in the cheesy anime, right?

Instead of a mud puddle, she recalled how her nose acquainted itself with the smell of grass and dirt growing between the cracks in the old stone path. Copper coated her tongue when she licked her lips, and for a moment, she could hear nothing about the sounds of Hiroshi’s hollering and the hurled insults of all of the people who stood around them. 

“Look at the gorgeous girl genius now!”

“Quick, someone come take a picture of the stupid slut!”

“Way to go, Obinata-kun!”

“It’s about time someone put her in her place.”

“Wow, isn’t that just so humiliating?”

“I bet she’ll cry. Just watch, she’ll start bawling. Did you see her after that Sato-san struck her? She wailed for hours!”

Fuck you. The words were right on the tip of her tongue, yet they refused to roll off. Fuck you, she chanted internally. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck all of you. I hate all of you. I hope you all fucking die in a big monster fire and makes you realize what fucky shitty people you all are. Fuck.

Tears pricked at her eyes, but god, she couldn’t let them see her cry. Not after what they said. Giving into it would only make them think they were right about her, and she would rather slit her throat on the spot than let that happen. She had to swallow her tears, and she had to get up. Get up. Get the fuck up. Get the fuck up, Miu!

The ragged stone scraped against the palms of her hands as she tried to push herself up. Tremors washed over her at the mere idea of having to face her offenders again. Not that she’d receive much of a chance, for the second she started to get up, Hiroshi’s boot connected with the back of her head and shoved her back down. He took extra care to mash her nose into the ground, just to humiliate her further. She was certain he’d insist that it was “for good measure”. Whatever that meant. Everyone knew she wouldn’t get up anyway. They weren’t exactly wrong when they suggested she might cry. The pressure had already built up in her throat, but she was loath to let it out. Keeping her grief at bay was the only thing on her mind — aside from the persisting wonder about where Kiibo was. Surely, Kiibo would come to save her, wouldn’t he? He always did, in moments like this… 

Why did he have to come?

Why did he have to get so... violent? So ferociously out of character? The memory of it all, it boggled her mind. The fact that sweet, gentle Kiibo could become such a menacing character when he wanted to be… it made her head spin. Then again, it probably made Hiroshi’s head spin, too. Looking back, Kiibo jacked him up way worse than what he had done to her. By the time a teacher came around to catch what was going on, Hiroshi was practically writhing around in pain. His once tanned skin had since become dotted with ugly hues of purple and green; in some places to the extent that it began to swell and puff up. Particularly around his eyes, she noted. Completely unashamed, she recalled how she relished in his misery. The poor asshole would barely be able to see for what could be weeks. Fitting pay back, she thought bitterly. The scarlet liquids gushing from his nose and lip felt fitting, too. By the time Kiibo was done, the blood on her face had begun to dry, but she could take some satisfaction in watching Hiroshi get a taste of his own acrid medicine. Her nose still hurt from when he mashed it against the pavement, after all. Of course, Kiibo did a lot more than just mash Hiroshi’s nose into the ground. He knocked the air out of his gut, left the nastiest bruise on his jaw — even threatened to blow his head off with a blaster should he ever come to hurt Miu again. Hiroshi was so terrified that he fell to the ground screaming about Miu being a psychopath, and how Kiibo was her sadistic little toy that helped her get off to other people’s torture. She wasn’t surprised in that moment that he still opted to take shots at them. Guys like him never did know when to quit. What did surprise her, though, was the way Kiibo reacted. 

“Shut up,” The words dripped off that mechanical tongue of his like venom, “Just shut up.”

Hiroshi flinched, but the students behind him continued the taunt, unwilling to see their leader lose. “What are you going to do if he doesn’t, Roboboy?”

Idiots. The word rested on her lips, but she didn’t dare utter it. Her situation came with enough risks already. She would prefer that the beatdown not return to her if she could avoid it… Not that she expected anything to get past Kiibo at this point. He kept flexing his fingers like he itched for more of a fight, and she wondered if Hiroshi would be getting out of this with greater injuries than the ones he already possessed. Miu couldn’t be certain that Kiibo would be willing to go easy on him, after all that she’d witnessed already. In fact, she felt more than certain that he wouldn’t, given what she saw already. Something inside of Kiibo had snapped — and not in the robotic way. 

She could see the change in his demeanour; that once friendly, smiling face twisting into an expression of rage she’d never seen from him before. His body actually shuddered. Before seeing him here, she wondered if robots could even shudder from fury and revulsion. Now she knew that this was a feature Professor Idabashi installed. For what, she didn’t know, but in retrospect, the presence of that function should have been a warning. 

Kiibo’s eyes could only narrow as he stared, almost blankly, at the boy on the ground. Though he tried to hide it, fear rattled Hiroshi’s bones. Miu recognized the sensation, and that feeling of aching bruises and blood dripping from seemingly every hole in his face. For a minute, she hoped that this might be a wake-up call for him about his actions, but she shook it off as soon as it came. People like Hiroshi could always be put into their place, but they would always have the benefit of popularity on their side. Their current situation came as proof of that. Even though Hiroshi had been reduced to the same scenario as Miu, the other students still rallied behind him. Pathetic. The word hung in her mind. People who had nothing real to stand for. 

Kiibo’s voice deepened as he stepped forward… like some kind of menace that Miu knew he wasn’t. What was even trying to prove? “Would you care to find out what I’ll do?” The question was practically spat through his gritted teeth, “Do you want to see what happens to people who beat down on people weaker than them?”

She swallowed. Words cut through Miu’s throat like the bone of a hunk of meat, her voice weakened as she called out to Kiibo. It took her by surprise, in all honesty. She hadn’t been expecting how raspy it sounded, or how willing it was for this to end. “Kiibo, don’t.” 

Recalling that he whipped around to stare at her didn’t feel like truth. Though she knew she didn’t fabricate it, his confusion and anger struck her as a false memory. Maybe it was because the whole incident was a blur, or perhaps it was the stunned and upset expression on his normally cheerful face. He wanted to keep fighting. “Why not? After what they did to you? I’m not going to stand by and let this keep happening.” 

Miu found the strength to do little more than reach up and wipe the scarlet stains off her face. God, she wished there was more she could do to convince him, but all she could do was try to force a phrase from her throat. She knew that couldn’t be enough. “Fucking hell, Kiibo, you’re not like this.”

She’d tried. Even with her feet knocked out from under her, all battered and bruised, tears wetting her lashes, she’d tried. If anyone were able to reason with him, she would be the one to do it. Everyone always said that the two of them had this unbreakable bond… Even Professor Idabashi, who had taken Miu aside, and thanked her for being such a good friend to him. Of course that had to be the memory that came back as she and the professor stared wordlessly at what remained of Kiibo.

Her tongue felt like cotton in her mouth. No matter how many times she stood in that spot, right next to the grieving professor, and replayed the incident… she could never figure out what to do. What she should have done, how she could have protected him. The only answer that snake-like voice in her head could offer was “be less of a coward”. But would even that have saved Kiibo from his fate? Or would it have just made it happen differently? 

She didn’t give herself the time to ask the question. She only sighed, slowly turning to the professor with tired, sad eyes. Admittedly, it stung, when he didn’t meet her gaze.

“Hey, um… professor?” 

God, she wished she didn’t have to talk. The sound of her own voice echoing against the lab’s chambers made her want to scream. Just hearing the sound of her own voice reminded her of what happened. Once upon a time, her voice rang out alongside Kiibo’s in the chambers, laughing together at some joke she’d made, or some human thing that Kiibo didn’t understand. Her voice wasn’t made to bounce around these chambers alone — Kiibo’s was always meant to accompany it, like they were performing a symphony. Only… the music wasn’t there anymore. Just the sound of Miu’s voice.

The professor’s face flashed a strobe light of emotions as he turned to look at Miu. There were so many that she couldn’t even be bothered to try and discern what each little twitch and twist in his face meant. Something like defeat, and grief, and anger, and all of those wretched feelings she knew too well. 

“Miss Iruma.” 

Her name dropped from his tongue so sadly that just the sound of his tired old voice made her want to bawl. Look at what you’ve done to him, the voice in her head sang, you’ve taken everything from him. 

“Sir?” 

It felt too formal in her mouth, but using anything else to refer to him wouldn’t feel half as appropriate. 

“I… I’m sorry that things turned out the way they did…” Professor Idabashi looked as if he were in physical pain as he tried to force the words from his mouth. Miu almost wanted to make him stop just so he wouldn’t hurt himself. “But I think you should know that… Kiibo cared about you a great deal. He didn’t blame you for what had to be done.”

He should have, that same voice screamed, she should have hated you and wanted you to die because you’re a horrible slutty bitch who just deserves to get fucked and die die die die die die die die die die-

Opening her mouth to answer him was a mistake. All that left her mouth was a pathetic sob, and for a minute she swore she wanted to do nothing more than melt into a puddle of heartbreak. She knew he wouldn’t blame her, but even so, hearing the words came as too much. Within an instant, tears poured over her and she just couldn’t control herself anymore. Her lip finally allowed itself to quiver. Her fists slowly but surely relaxed, and her hands flew to her face to wipe away her tears. And all Professor Idabashi could do was watch her with these horrifyingly hurt eyes, wishing more than anything that there was something he could do. All she could manage for herself was a nod to his statement, so she hardly believed that he could do anything to make it better. As much as everyone wanted to try, nothing could.

“Is there something I can do, Miss Iruma?” 

She didn’t deserve his kindness. Kiibo had been like a son to him. He loved him above everything else in the world. And Miu took that away from him. Her recklessness and cowardice took the one thing he truly felt he had in the world. Her lungs longed to scream at him for it; for daring to be kind to her when she didn’t deserve an ounce of respect. This was her fault! It was her fault and he should be letting her know that it is her fault!  
As much as she tried, words refused to come. All she could do was lift her head up to look at the man, acutely aware of how awful she must have looked. All things considered, she found herself to be an ugly crier — with her, crying always came to a dripping nose and a crinkling chin and a crease in her brow. The only thing the nature of her tears did to give her an advantage was incite a higher degree of pity. She always seemed to look so pathetic that people around her would do just about anything to get her to stop with the tears. 

Unless of course, they were people like Hiroshi. Then they would just laugh. Like they did when they heard Kiibo would be deactivated.

“Would you perhaps like a moment alone?”

She shook her head furiously. “No…” She reached up to wipe some stray snot on her sleeve. Without even having to feel it, she knew it would be there within a matter of seconds. “Kiibo would want us to comfort each other.”

Professor Idabashi nodded. “Kiibo would want us to comfort each other.”

_______________________

Deactivated for a memory wipe.

It was a detail the professor left out. He hadn’t wanted Miu to get her hopes up once she knew that Kiibo could be rebooted. After all, without his memories, he wouldn’t be the same. The mind Professor Idabashi had so lovingly crafted for him would recall nothing of his experiences with the professor himself, let alone his various adventures with Miu. Apart from fundamental personality traits like his kindness and his pride over his abilities, nothing more would remain. He wouldn’t remember his hatred of vending machines, or his favourite concentration of volt charges, or the kinds of dirty jokes that made Miu’s laugh turn to something akin to a witch’s cackle. He wouldn’t remember the first time the professor held him in his arms, or the first time Miu told him she loved him. All of those memories would be stored away on the professor’s computer, and new ones would grow and take their place. And though it hurt, though it made them both want to scream, it had to be that way.

Still, Miu decided she wanted a place in the new memories anyway. In spite of the professor’s worries about her getting too excited, she begged him for the chance to be with Kiibo again. He tried and tried to warn her that he wouldn’t remember, and that she might only be going in to break her own heart over and over again. Refusal to listen on Miu’s part followed that statement. God, she didn’t care if Kiibo didn’t remember her. She just wanted to see him again. 

Winter came full force the day that dream came alive. Snow dusted every inch of the earth; the flakes fluttering down on the people like droplets of heaven from the sky. Miu couldn’t help but smile to herself as she watched the sight; her mind drawing back to Kiibo’s first experience with the snow. Professor Idabashi had taped it with an old camera and shown her the footage after Kiibo’s initial deactivation, and she still laughed to herself about it. His jaw hung open in shock, and his hands reached up desperately to try to catch the flakes. All the while, the professor’s deep, hearty laugh sounded around him as he watched his creation of life swipe at the snowflakes. That video was one of Miu’s favourite things.

How funny it was, that she thought of it while she walked to the lab, where she would only see it again. Bright as day, right in front of that old building, stood Professor Idabashi and Kiibo, mimicking the memory they’d caught years before. Like nothing had ever happened. Like the world had never stopped. The professor sat on an old rock, a paper cup of coffee in one hand as he watched Kiibo try to grab a flake out of the air. Kiibo rushed around him, desperately doing whatever he could to try and secure one. He was still so unaccustomed to his body and overall sentience that she caught him almost tripping over his own feet. She could hear his voice calling out to his father figure, asking him why the snowflakes were so good at evading him. She chuckled at his innocence, suddenly realizing how much she’d missed it.

“Having a bit of trouble there, Keebs?”

The phrase and accompanying endearment slipped out before she could think to stop it. She cringed immediately. Perhaps this was what the professor meant by having trouble moving on. Oh well. The damage had been done. Kiibo had already turned to look at her like she had three heads, wondering how on earth she knew his name. Or, rather, his not-name. 

She did what she could to shake it off, stepping forward. “I guess you don’t remember me, huh?” She joked, tossing some of her blonde hair over her shoulder dramatically, “Not that I’m entirely surprised.”

Kiibo did little more than swallow, glancing back at the professor, who nodded him forward in encouragement. A signal that it was okay to talk to her. That she didn’t bite. Miu wished she could have thanked him for that in some way. “What’s your name?”

She could have laughed at how small his voice was. He always used to talk to her like that when they first met. He later confessed it was because he felt intimidated by how pretty she was. How funny that it should come to fruition once again, when he saw her for the first time a second time. 

“I’m Iruma Miu-san, the gorgeous girl genius. You and I are best friends.”

Slowly, a smile began to creep across Kiibo’s face. She half-expected it to be sad, but… it wasn’t. In a way, it struck her as almost knowing. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Ouch. She swore she felt her heart break in two, but she couldn’t risk breaking up appearances now. She’d probably freak him out if she showed how much that hurt anyway. Instead, she cocked a hip and raised a brow, speaking to him once again, “Oh, really?”

He nodded without a moment’s hesitation. “I know I don’t remember who you are. Professor Idabashi told me that I lost all of my memories, and I won’t know some of the people who try to talk to me.” In spite of the harshness of his words, Miu couldn’t help but notice how his cheerful smile seemed to stay. Did the lost memories really not bother him at all? “But I know what I feel about the people when I see them.”

Miu’s entire chest tightened at his words. Even with the cold air nipping at her cheeks and nose, heat pricked at them. Without even hearing what he had to say next, her body was already preparing to succumb to tears. Please, she begged internally, please let him remember something of me.

“And Miss Iruma-san, forgive me for being so forward, but…” He giggled softly, “I know that I feel we’re more than just best friends. I remember, somewhere deep down that I… that I really love you.”

Here come the waterworks, Miu thought as tears sprung to her eyes. She didn’t have it in her to fight them off, and instead embraced them, smiling softly to herself. “I really love you too, Keebs.”


End file.
